Paolo Sorrentino’s Youth has the rare power to force recollections of the past as well as anticipations of the future, all the while keeping its viewer completely grounded in the present, grounded in its stunning and symphonic display of human emotion. Indeed, Sorrentino pulls the rug out from under his audience on several occasions throughout the duration of the film’s runtime, dragging them down into the depths of dejection only to raise them back up, just as quickly, into the heights of pure laughter and joy. Watching this film is like being trapped in a game of pinball, only Sorrentino is the game player and his audience is the ball that he’s whacking in every which direction without the slightest bit of hesitation. It’s clear, however, that he’s doing this out of love; if anything, Youth is undoubtedly the director’s most tender and heartfelt film yet. And also his most accessible to date.

Part of this accessibility can be attributed to Sorrentino’s decision, as primarily an Italian-language director, to direct the film in English (a feat which he attempted once prior with his overlooked 2011 output, This Must Be the Place). This immediately increases the number of people that will be interested in seeing it worldwide. Nonetheless, the chief reason why mainstream audiences will be drawn to this film is because of the big-name stars attached to the cast, including Michael Caine, Harvey Keitel, Rachel Weisz, Paul Dano and Jane Fonda in an unforgettable cameo performance.

Much like a few of the other films in competition at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, Youth is relatively light on plot and focuses more on conversations between characters, uprooted emotions and recounted memories than a concrete narrative. With that being said, the general storyline follows our protagonist, retired composer Fred Ballinger (Michael Caine), during his stay at a spa resort in the Alps with his daughter, Lena (Rachel Weisz), as well as his longtime best friend, illustrious film director Mick Boyle (Harvey Keitel).

While the cast does a wonderful job realizing their characters, the true star of the film is cinematographer Luca Bigazzi, who has worked on several of Sorrentino’s previous projects including the Academy Award winning, The Great Beauty. As he did with his previous work, Bigazzi seems to channel an aesthetic similar to that of Emmanuel Lubezki’s collaborations with the legendary director, Terrence Malick. Both Bigazzi and Lubezki place great emphasis on the visual composition of each scene, capturing an immense degree of detail through the movement of their ever-gliding cameras.

One particularly memorable example of Bigazzi’s skill can be found early in the film. During a dream sequence, Ballinger walks down a platform surrounded by a rising body of water as it slowly begins to engulf him. There are very few cinematographers that can place us smack-dab in the center of the world they’re shooting like Bigazzi and Lubezki, which is why I continue to enjoy their masterful work.

If there’s one area in which Youth falters a bit, it’s making the 118-minute runtime feel long. Youth would’ve benefited from removing a few unnecessary scenes from its later acts. Instead, the audience may find themselves completely enthralled by its beauty one minute, and then checking their wristwatches the next. Nevertheless, some excessive minutes doesn’t take away from the fact Youth is an enjoyable film with a varied soundtrack, gorgeous locations, spectacular visuals and a deeply philosophical screenplay.

Originally published on June 3rd, 2015 as part of our Cannes Film Festival coverage.

In more than one way Ari Folman’s The Congress reminds me a lot of last year’s Cannes film Holy Motors. The most obvious way is how both films can be said to be about the future of cinema. In The Congress Robin Wright essentially plays herself, a B-list actor who is complimenting on whether or not to allow herself to be sampled by the studio who can digitally re-create and place “her” in future films. Holy Motors was also a futuristic take on cinema where the camera never stops thus the actor is always acting. Both films are incredibly creative, fascinating, and push the envelope in terms of filmmaking; all things that by itself is worth a lot of praise. Another more personal reason why they both are alike to me is that I opened film festivals with these two wild mind-trip films. I am starting to question whether diving head first into these film festivals is really a good idea.

The first half of The Congress is displayed in live-action form and is relatively straight forward. A boss from a fictitious studio company named “Miramount”, played by spectacularly by Danny Huston, expresses to Robin Wright that she should allow the studio to sample her as it is the future of cinema. And we are not just talking about sampling her voice, but all her emotions and facial expressions. This way the studio can then re-create a version of Robin Wright that will live on forever, allowing them to place in her an infinite amount of films over the next two decades. This is the path that they claim cinema is going on and it is without a doubt an interesting concept.

Robin refused to sign the contract which states she has no choice of what kind of films will be made with her digitally assigned to. Freedom of choice is what the actress fights for, at least initially. Although her son’s recent poor health begins to outweigh her dignity and she caves in. Later on in the film, an even newer trend is discovered which allows a film to be completely unique to its viewer. Technology advances far enough to be able to trigger personal emotional experiences from the audience member’s brain, making the film watching experience feel more intimate. It is even suggested that audience will be able to literally taste actors and actress that get sampled into future (which is basically the entire plot of Brandon Cronenberg’s Antiviral).

The second half of the film takes a wicked turn. All of a sudden the live-action film turns into the kind of digital animated world that was talked about in the first half. Here Folman creates a trippy environment that is beautiful to look at and hard to look away from. Just imagine if Yellow Submarine was combined with Waking Life, you would likely get something close to The Congress.

The Congress seems to be an obvious satire on movie studios, but the film continues to explore other plotlines along the way that makes it difficult to pinpoint exactly what message the film was trying to get across. The truth is, there are many ideas expressed in the film and that might be its biggest downfall. There are laugh-out-loud moments when the film is making fun of movie studios. There are some fascinating insights on the future of cinema. There is even some good old family drama and love interests in the film. The problem is some areas work much better than others. One thing is for sure, it is a wildly ambitious film – perhaps it was trying to achieve just a little too much though.

Originally published on May 17th, 2013

Check out the official poster (courtesy of EW.com) and trailer for Ari Folman‘s upcoming film The Congress, starring Robin Wright. In the film, Wright plays a version of herself, who sells her digital likeness to Hollywood producers in order to help care for her sick son.

Folman’s previous film, Waltz with Bashir, was an intriguing blend of documentary and animation — The Congress looks to blend the lines between reality and art in similarly interesting ways.

The film premiered way back when at the 2013 Cannes Film Festival where we had a chance to see it (read our review), and after a long line of festival showcases, is set to be released by Drafthouse Films and On Demand starting July 24, 2014.

Watch the trailer for The Congress

The Congress movie poster

Paolo Sorrentino, the director of last year’s Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, The Great Beauty, has revealed the cast and plot of his next film, The Early Years. According to the Hollywood Reporter, the film will star Michael Caine as a retired orchestra conductor who comes out of retirement at the request of the Queen.

Those who saw The Great Beauty know that Sorrentino has very good insights on wealthy artists aging, so this basic plot tease has a lot of potential. Though not much else is known about the film at this time, we can certainly expect a good mix of humor and drama, as well as a beautiful film, as it is being shot in the Alps of Switzerland. Sorrentino is also no stranger to English-language films, as he previously released This Must Be the Place, known as the film where Sean Penn looked a lot like Robert Smith and hunted down a Nazi.

The Early Years will co-star Rachel Weisz, Willem Dafoe, Jane Fonda, Harvey Keitel and Paul Dano — a fine ensemble cast filled with veterans of three different acting generations. The film is expected to be released in 2015.

Partway through The Grand Budapest Hotel, there’s an argument between Dmitri (Adrien Brody, looking brilliantly evil) and his deceased mother’s lawyer (Jeff Goldblum). The lawyer refuses to hand the dead woman’s fortune over to her son as the details of her murder haven’t been cleared up. Dmitri angrily leaves, and his henchman (Willem Dafoe) casually tosses the lawyer’s cat out of a window on his way out. It’s a cruel act, and a funny visual gag, until the lawyer peers out his window and the camera cuts to his cat’s splattered body below.

Writer/director Wes Anderson uses these shock moments of sudden violence more than once throughout the film. The dead woman (Tilda Swinton, unrecognizable with pounds of old age makeup) is Madame D., an old rich countess who frequented the titular hotel. Located in the mountains of the Republic of Zubrowka, a made up European nation, the hotel is a gorgeous and highly popular establishment. Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes) is the hotel’s concierge, a charming man who was also taking Madame D. to bed during her visits (one of Gustave’s many duties as concierge included sexually satisfying the rich old ladies who visited). When it’s revealed that she put Gustave in her will as the recipient of a priceless painting, Madame D.’s family frames him for her murder.

Gustave receives help from Zero Moustafa (Tony Revolori), a young lobby boy that Gustave has taken a shine to. The story, taking place in 1932 during some unnamed war ravaging the country, is narrated to us by an older Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) in the 1960s. He’s telling his tale to a young author (Jude Law) over dinner at the hotel, now well past its glory days. Law narrates the 1960s segments, which are actually from a novel being read to viewers in the 1980s by (presumably) a now much-older author (Tom Wilkinson). The nesting-doll structure may seem frivolous, but Wes Anderson’s films thrive on frivolity.

The multi-layered narrative also establishes Anderson’s attempts to comment on memory and nostalgia. Moustafa’s story in the 1930s, shot gorgeously in 1.33:1, is stylistically Anderson’s best work to date. The set design, meticulous framing, whip pans, quick zooms, and use of animation and miniatures, among Anderson’s other visual trademarks, operate at a level that more than matches his story’s large scale. Anderson and cinematographer Robert D. Yeoman are clearly having a field day, and it shows. The charming style also shows Moustafa’s nostalgia for this period of his life, as if these “good ol’ days” represent something that’s never to return.

Anderson is aware of how dangerous this way of looking at the past with rose-coloured glasses is, which is why he throws in scenes like the one with Goldblum’s cat. He is purposely breaking the spell his film casts, reminding viewers that the time period was still a tumultuous one. The hotel is not so much a shining example of long-lost civility and politeness as it is an escape from the harsh realities of wartime and poverty. These two worlds of fantasy and reality eventually come together, but through Anderson’s lens the stylistic flourishes still remain. The final scene of the ‘30s timeline, also the bleakest part of Moustafa’s story, switches to black and white, showing how Anderson still finds a way to fill his heavier moments with aesthetic quirks.

While Anderson’s toying with memory and nostalgia is interesting, it fails to make any impact to the film overall. The handling of violence makes for an awkward juxtaposition, one that’s more admirable in its intent than execution (I never thought I’d say this, but Anderson should take some tips from Quentin Tarantino in this area). The war going on in the film’s background is wiped of any details, save for some vague allusions to the SS. The obscuring of these elements only muddy the water, and the dense plotting of Anderson’s screenplay make his thematic points get swallowed up by the film’s aesthetics.

Not that the aesthetics are a bad thing; The Grand Budapest Hotel is still a treat to watch. Fiennes is perfect as Gustave, and Anderson’s script is filled with plenty of hilarious moments. The massive ensemble, where seemingly every role is filled with a well-known actor (supporting cast includes Edward Norton, Harvey Keitel, Saorise Ronan, Jason Schwartzman and Owen Wilson just to name a few), work together perfectly. While The Grand Budapest Hotel works well, it only does up to a certain point. What the film amounts to is nothing more than a well-done and admirable piece of fluff.

The Grand Budapest Hotel trailer